


Go to Your Room

by Siancore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon & The Winter Soldier, sambucky - Fandom
Genre: Domestic Sambucky, Fluff and Angst, Jealous Bucky Barnes, M/M, Sam Wilson is a Gift, they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23123104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siancore/pseuds/Siancore
Summary: The one in which people think Bucky has a problem with his roommate Sam’s dates because they’re guys…
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 179





	Go to Your Room

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt that the silly tagging feature on Tumblr has lost about Sambucky roommates AU

Living with Steve and their roommate was a little awkward for Bucky. He felt like a third wheel most of the time. Sure, he and Steve had grown up together, but they weren’t the same kids from Brooklyn that they had been. Bucky was a returned serviceperson and was not the most outgoing guy anymore. Steve, it turned out, was more outgoing in adulthood; he was a social butterfly of sorts, and so was his new best friend, Sam Wilson.

They were a lot alike, Bucky noticed. Both the center of attention. Each had a bunch of other friends and went on dates regularly. Steve did not usually bring girls home, but when he did, he made sure to go to his bedroom where he was afforded privacy. Sam, however, was quite content to be laid up on the sofa, or eating in the kitchen, or sharing the shower with his dates. And it was always some ridiculously good-looking dumbass who was younger than Sam was, and who stared at Sam like the sun rose and set on him.

And Bucky wasn’t a prude or a bigot, no way, but for some reason seeing Sam making out on the sofa on a Saturday afternoon _annoyed_ him to no end.

“You got a room, Wilson,” he would say in passing, while giving his best stern expression.

“So do you, Barnes, so why don’t you go to it,” Sam would reply, and Bucky would roll his eyes and walk off in a huff. 

It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t like Sam. He really, truly did. Sam was a great guy. Real sweet and kind and generous. Would give you the shirt off his back. Was so smart and witty. And he was funny, too. Had the best laugh and the biggest, brightest smile. He always went out of his way to make people feel safe and welcome. It was no wonder he was so popular and had guys lining up around the corner to date him.

He and Bucky got on really well. Their playful banter was part of how they related to one another. They could each dish it out and take it, and Bucky was never genuinely annoyed with Sam because of it. Yet, increasingly, he was finding himself growing irritated the more Sam brought dates home. It was always some dumbass who was all hands, muscle, and little substance. Some guy who was always trying to kiss and touch Sam.

Bucky couldn’t blame them, though; Sam was an attractive man. He had the most beautiful brown eyes Bucky had ever seen, framed by lashes so long that they touched his incredible cheeks when he laughed wholeheartedly. His lips looked so soft and inviting, and even the gap in his teeth was beyond adorable. So, yes; Bucky understood the appeal. He just didn’t like to be around when these other men were falling over themselves to get to Sam. It was fuckin’ annoying.

The new guy Sam was seeing was almost _too_ good-looking, and he was all over Sam all the fucking time. One day, upon returning home from the gym, Bucky walked into the living room to find Steve and Sam watching a football game. Steve was on the armchair yelling at the screen, and Sam was on the sofa sprawled out like a fashion model doing a photoshoot: Looking bored and beautiful. Bucky dropped his bag to the floor, and sat next to Sam. He felt the other man’s deep brown eyes on him immediately.

“You’re bulkin’ up there, Barnes,” Sam commented, dragging his gaze over Bucky’s form. “Lookin’ good, dude.”

For some reason, Bucky felt a blush creep up his neck and settle on his face.

“Thanks, man,” Bucky replied as he gave Sam a coy smile, which Sam returned. They sat staring at one another for a beat longer than was necessary.

Just then, the sound of another voice drew them from their reverie as Erik Stevens asked, “What’d I miss?”

“Nothin’, man,” said Steve, annoyed that their team was behind on the scoreboard. “I’m about ready to turn the TV off and toss it out the window.”

“Dramatic ass,” said Erik.

“He really is,” Sam added.

Bucky sat back and said nothing as the aggravation washed over him.

“Want another beer, babe?” Erik asked Sam as he placed his hands to Sam’s shoulders and rubbed them. The small gesture really got on Bucky’s nerves.

Sam turned to him, as if he could feel the irritation radiating from him and said, “Yeah, thanks. You want one, too, Buck?”

“Nah, I’m gonna hit the shower,” said Bucky as he stood and walked away, not offering a greeting to Sam’s beau as he walked by.

“What’s his deal?” asked Erik as he flopped down beside Sam and handed him the beer bottle. “Every time I come over, it’s like dude is in a bad mood.”

“He’s just shy, right Steve?” Sam said in Bucky’s defence.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Steve, not paying too much attention as he was too engrossed in the football game.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he had a problem with the two of us,” said Erik.

“Bucky’s not a racist,” said Sam.

“Not that,” Erik replied. “I meant with us bein’ two dudes.”

“No way,” said Sam, shaking his head. “He’s not a homophobe. He’s a great guy. You just gotta get to know him.”

“I’m tryin’,” Erik proffered. “But whenever I’m here, it’s like he doesn’t want me here.”

“You’re wrong, Erik,” said Sam. “He’s a good guy. You’ll see.”

xXxXx

Later that night, after Erik had gone home and Steve had gone to bed, Sam found Bucky sitting up watching an old movie in the dimly lit living rom. He often did that when he was unable to sleep; plus, it was actually nice to get time to enjoy their living room without Steve yelling at the television and some guy all over Sam.

Sam eyed Bucky a moment, before he sat down beside him and reached over to take some popcorn from his bowl; Bucky held the bowl out so that Sam could take as much as he wanted.

“What’re you watchin’?” asked Sam.

“I dunno,” said Bucky. “Some old romance shit. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl because boy is a dumbass, boy tries to win girl back. Sappy shit. You’d like it.”

Sam nudged Bucky’s shoulder with his before saying, “True, but I’d much rather watch boy meets boy and they live happily ever after.”

Bucky let out a discreet sigh and nodded his head. Sam must have been smitten with Erik. It’s all he ever wanted to talk about even when he wasn’t talking about him. It was exasperating. Bucky didn’t like it.

Sam noticed the lull in their short-lived conversation, and then he began to wonder if Erik wasn’t wrong about his assumptions regarding Bucky.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Sure.”

“What d’ya think about Erik?”

Bucky turned to look at him and said, “I don’t think about him.”

“Okay, but that’s not what I asked,” said Sam. “I’m askin’ your opinion of him. I’ve been seein’ him for almost a month now, and I feel like the two of you haven’t really hung out together or clicked.”

“I don’t need to click with him, Wilson,” Bucky replied flatly. “You’re the one screwin’ him, not me.”

Sam was a little taken aback by his friend’s snappy retort.

“Jesus, Barnes, what the hell is your problem?” asked Sam.

“I don’t have a problem.”

“You sure about that?” Sam accused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Let’s see: Every damn time Erik is here, you either run off to your room, or ignore him, or be downright rude to him,” said Sam. “So what’s your problem?”

“Do the two of you really need to be here with your hands all over one another like horny fuckin’ teenagers?” asked Bucky, raising his voice a little. “This is a common area, Sam. Can’t you take that shit to the bedroom?”

“That shit?” asked Sam, raising his voice, too. “You mean the gay shit?”

“I mean the dry-humping-on-the-couch-shit,” Bucky replied. “The shit with the dumbass twenty-somethings who’ve always got their hands in your pants. That shit. No one wants to see that.”

“Tell me, if Erik was a woman, would you even care so much?”

“What?”

“If Erik was Erika and was a chick, would this even be an issue right now?”

“You think I’m annoyed with it because you’re gay?”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, uh? You think I didn’t notice that you’re always in a shitty mood when I bring guys home? But when Steve brings girls home, you’re here drinkin’ coffee with them and bein’ extra nice and shit. When it’s one of Steve’s little girlfriends, you remember that you’re actually a charming guy; you remember that you’ve got manners and social skills. Why is that?”

“I’m not gonna sit here and be interrogated,” said Bucky as he placed the popcorn down on the coffee table and tried to walk away.

Sam stood quickly and took hold of Bucky’s arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Answer me, damn it,” said Sam, as he stared into Bucky’s eyes. “Why don’t you care when Steve has dates over, but you’re in a foul ass mood when I do?”

“Whatever, man.”

“No, tell me why. Why are you always actin’ like someone pissed in your cereal when I have guys here, but you don’t give a good goddamn who Steve has over?”

“Because I don’t _care_ who Steve brings back here,” said Bucky, stridently. “I don’t care about who he fucks. I care about who _you_ fuck.”

“Why?” said Sam, just as loudly. “ _Why_ do you care?”

“Because I fuckin’ want you. _I want you_. And it makes me crazy, Sam, seein’ you with other guys who aren’t fuckin’ good enough for you. It makes me crazy ‘cause it should be me, okay. I should be the one kissin’ on you and makin’ you laugh. I want you, alright. I want you, Wilson, and seein’ you with some guy that ain’t me it just, it –”

Before Bucky could finish his rant-turned-confession, Sam had pulled him close and pressed a passionate kiss to his mouth. Bucky deepened it immediately and pushed Sam up against the wall as their lips, tongues and hands explored one another. Sam let out a small moan as Bucky palmed his ass and then brought their bodies closer. He was just about to hook Sam’s leg and lift him, when the sound of Steve trudging out of his room caused the pair to break the kiss and pull apart.

“Seriously, guys,” said Steve as he rounded the corner and placed his hands on his hips. “Can you argue a little quieter, please? Some of us are tryin’ to sleep.”

“Sorry,” said Sam, as he rushed past Steve, leaving Bucky standing there with his lips, among other things, swollen and pulsing from the kiss. He grabbed his keys and headed in the direction of the front door.

“Sammy, where’re you goin’?” asked a confused Steve.

Sam turned around, but avoided Bucky’s gaze, before saying, “To Erik’s place.”

…..

Bucky lay in his dark bedroom staring up at the barely visible ceiling. He replayed their argument and kiss over and over in his mind. It made sense, now, why he was so irritable whenever he saw Sam with another man: He was jealous because he had feelings for Sam himself. That whole time he had wanted to kiss Sam and be with him, but he didn’t even realize. Not that it mattered now. His ill-timed admission, and subsequent brief make-out session with Sam didn’t matter because Sam had run off to Erik.

“Goddamn it,” said Bucky, as he let out a loud sigh and rolled to his side.

Things were going to be even more awkward the next time Erik came over. Bucky silently chided himself for getting carried away by their kiss; for not realizing sooner that he had feelings for Sam. And then he felt sorry for himself because Sam was with Erik, and there was no way Sam would choose Bucky over a nice, funny, handsome guy like Erik. No. Fucking. Way.

He was so confused and upset that he almost missed the sound of the soft rapping at his door. He let out a sigh, rolled out of bed, and then went to answer it. He was expecting to see Steve, who was now wide awake and finishing off the popcorn, but was surprised to see Sam instead.

“Hey,” said Bucky, gently.

“Hey,” Sam replied. “Can we talk?”

Bucky nodded his head, switched on his light, and then let Sam enter his bedroom. Bucky took up a seat on the bed, and Sam followed suit. He mentally prepared himself for the _that-was-all-a-mistake_ talk. He fidgeted with the hem of his sleep-shirt and avoided Sam’s gaze.

“Look, about before –”

“I’m sorry,” said Bucky, as he looked up at Sam. “I shouldn’t have said or done anything. You’ve got a boyfriend. I was wrong for that.”

“I kissed you first,” said Sam. “I shouldn’t have, but I did. It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t have to kiss you back,” said Bucky as his gaze fell to Sam’s lips.

Sam mirrored the action and marvelled at just how pink Bucky’s lips actually were.

“We were both wrong,” said Sam as Bucky nodded.

“What did Erik say?” said Bucky. “I assume you went to tell him what happened. Guess he wants to kick my ass now. Let him know I’ve been workin’ out lately.”

He tried to make it sound like he was joking, but his heart was clenching inside of his chest.

“I broke up with Erik,” said Sam.

“What? Why?”

“Because I realized I didn’t want him,” said Sam quietly. “Not really. Not properly. And what happened tonight between us was proof of that. I _chose_ to kiss you, Buck. Not because I got caught up in the moment, but because I _wanted_ to kiss you. I’ve honestly wanted to for a while now. I didn’t’ realize you were into guys, so I never said or did anything.”

“I didn’t even _know_ I was into guys until I met you,” Bucky admitted. “I still don’t know what’s goin’ on with me. Maybe I’m only into you and that’s it.”

Bucky let out a little nervous laugh and ran his fingers through his hair.

“You’re amazing, Sammy,” he added. “You’re the most amazing guy I’ve ever met.”

Sam gave him a sweet smile and said, “So are you.”

They then sat staring at one another for a brief moment before Bucky decided to speak.

“So, what’re we gonna do about this?” said Bucky gesturing between them.

“How about in a few weeks, after you figure some things out, you ask me out on a date?” asked Sam with a coy yet hopeful look on his face.

“Will you say yes?” asked Bucky.

Sam’s smile grew wider before he said, “Yeah, I think I might.”

…..

_A few weeks later…_

Life with his roommates was better than ever, Bucky realized. Steve was still yelling at the TV and Sam was still making out with a dumbass on the sofa. Only this time, the dumbass was Bucky and he was so completely happy; happier than he had ever been before. Life was great. His new favorite thing to do was to be sprawled out on the couch while Sam slept on top of him. Or to be sitting there with a reclining Sam’s feet in his lap. Or to have Sam, all playful and pretty, straddling him while he peppered kisses to his neck and collarbone; kisses to his lips; kisses down his chest; kisses, kisses, more and more kisses.

“Come on, guys,” Steve would say, when he would find them a tangled, heavy-breathing mess on the sofa. “You’ve got a room and the game’s almost on. So, move your asses and go to your room.”

Bucky would smile at his boyfriend, peck his lips once more, and say, “Oh yeah, we _do_ have a room, don’t we?”

“We do,” Sam would reply, smiling and beautiful. “Let’s go to it.”


End file.
